Forbidden Caress

by Colleen French

  Mekollaan moved to cut his wrists free. "I was only supposed to come to the cabin for you. You lengthened my trip by many days. I have better things to do than to chase after my young brother."

  Ignoring his last remark, Tipaakke sat up. He closed his eyes, willing the ground to cease spinning. "You didn't even notice that my sight has been regained."

  "I noticed. How did it happen?" He held out one painted hand to help Tipaakke to his feet.

  "It's a long story, meant only to be told around the evening fire." He shook his head. "It has been quite a winter, brother." He grasped his hand tightly. "As much as I hate to admit it, I missed you."

  "I did not miss you. You cause too much trouble. Can you walk?" He steadied him. "Life was very peaceful in the village without you."

  "I can walk. The bone in this leg is cracked," he tapped his left leg, "but it is not broken through."

  "If it needs to be set, we will do it later." Mekollaan looked up at the burning Mohawk lodges. "We should start moving south. I will call off the others once we are safely in the forest." He stared at the burns and gashes on Tipaakke's near naked body. "If you cannot walk, Fox, we will make a litter and carry you."

  "Gather our warriors. No more lives must be lost." He stared at his brother through the darkness. "I will not forget you came for me."

  "You are my brother." Mekollaan dropped a hand to Tipaakke's shoulder and squeezed it. "Stay. I will be back. We meet the others south of here."

  Tipaakke leaned heavily on a tree, watching Mekollaan disappear into the smoke. In a few moments he returned, his axe bloody in his hand.

  "I almost had my head taken from my shoulders." He wiped his axe on the Huron leggings. "These Mohawks, they are not human; they have no honor. They fight like mindless animals." He tucked his axe in a band around his waist and reached for Tipaakke. "Come. Slow Turtle will lead the others out after us."

  Tipaakke pushed his hand aside. "I'm no girl-child. I can walk, just lead the way." He hobbled behind him.

  They rounded the burning village, and headed south into the forest. The brothers did not speak. It took all of Tipaakke's energy just to follow behind his brother. Now that he was on his feet again and his mind was functioning, he realized he had been injured worse than he thought. His leg ached sending shooting sparks of pain into his hip and his skin felt as if he'd been set on fire. Several times Mekollaan turned to offer assistance, hearing his brother struggle to keep one foot in front of the other, but the look in Fox's eyes made him silent. His brother's pride was injured, and he knew it was better just to leave him alone. If he fell, he could carry him. He'd done it before.

  Finally, they reached the rendezvous point and Tipaakke collapsed beside the small waterfall. Drinking his fill from the stone reservoir, he leaned back against a leaning pine, catching his breath. "Is Katelyn all right? She made it back safely?"

  Mekollaan leaned to drink, choosing his words wisely. "I thought she was with you." He looked up at the bright orange sun just peaking over the horizon.

  "No." Tipaakke sat up. "She was not with me. You didn't see her with me did you?" His face was tense with fear and anger.

  "I did not see her with you. I thought . . . " He looked Tipaakke straight in the eye. "I thought she was dead. I thought the Iroquois killed her."

  "Why didn't you say anything sooner?" Fox got painfully to his feet.

  Mekollaan clenched his fist. "Because I thought she was dead. I know you loved her. I didn't not want to open the wound."

  "How many days ago did you leave the village?" He leaned against a tree, resting his forehead on his arm.

  Mekollaan took off the Huron clothing, pulling his own from beneath a rock. "After I found the cabin, I returned to the village and got help. I had found a broken Mohawk spearhead near the cabin, so I knew who had you. I only guessed that you were still alive because I found no bodies. Once the other braves from the village joined me, we moved north. The trail was easy to follow because there were so many in the group. We found the dead woman on the deer path more than a week ago." He pulled his white man's woolen shirt over his head and tied his loin cloth.

  "Seven days!" Tipaakke counted mentally. "Then she wouldn't have had time to get back by the time you left." His voice was hopeful.

  "No. One of our scouts just joined us late last night. He was in our village two days ago. He brought a message from Father. When he left, the girl had not appeared." He shoved the Huron leggings beneath the rock.

  Tipaakke's heart leaped to stick in his throat. What had happened to his Katelyn? He knew the Mohawks hadn't gotten her. They had him. And the chances of there being two raiding parties so far south was slim. Was she lost? Had she been injured? Why had he let her attempt to make it back on her own? Why hadn't he come up with a better plan?

  "It isn't your fault, Fox." Mekollaan could see the pain on his brother's face plainly.

  "It is my fault!" Tipaakke slammed his fist into the palm of his hand. "We were together. I had her safe in my arms and we separated." He looked up at the sun rising in the east. "Where are the others? We must go. I've got to get back to the village. Maybe she was just delayed." He turned to his brother. "I thought she would be safe, Hawk." He reached out pleadingly with one hand. "She learned so much this winter."

  "Do not blame yourself. There is nothing to be done now but wait for the other men. Then we will start for home. Now sit down and stop moving like a frightened rabbit. Let me set your leg."

  "No. I have to go now. I don't have time. I'll go on without you. Meet you back at the village in a few days." Tipaakke could not believe the stars that had crossed his path. How could a man fluctuate between having such bad and good luck.

  "Don't be a fool. The wolves will have you for a meal, as slow as you will be on that leg." He pulled his knife from his moccasin. "Now sit. I will be back in a minute with wide bark to set the leg." He turned to go and then turned back. "Are you sure it would not be easier to just forget her?"

  Tipaakke's black eyes grew stormy with anger. "No. She is mine. We were going to marry." He slid to the ground. "She carries my child."

  Mekollaan nodded. "I will help you find her if you wish. But I do this for you. Not for her."

  "Why do you dislike her so? She has done nothing to me. She made me very happy. She has given me a reason to live again." He pushed his long, dark hair off his shoulder.

  "She is white isn't she?" Hawk's eyes grew steely cold.

  Tipaakke laughed. "Wait until you see her. She is more Lenni Lenape than white now. She speaks our tongue well. Only her hair and the color of her skin gives her away."

  Mekollaan turned his head north, signaling Tipaakke to be silent. "There is Slow Turtle's call. The men are coming. Then we go." He shook a long bronze finger. "I will help you search for the white woman if that is what you wish. But we may not find her alive." With that, he disappeared into the woods.

  By the time the other Delaware braves had appeared and changed from their Huron disguises, Tipaakke's leg was splinted and the brothers were ready to go. There had been only one casualty among the Delaware braves and two wounded. Mekollaan was proud of his men, and well pleased that the raid had been such a success.

  For three days the Lenni Lenape braves traveled, reaching their home village late in the afternoon on the third day. Without stopping to speak to anyone, Tipaakke made his way to his wigwam. His hopes were high as he tugged back the door flap and peered inside. He had prayed all the way home that he would find his Katelyn safe within the walls of his wigwam. But upon looking inside, he saw that that was not to be. There was nothing inside but his sleeping platform, a few baskets hanging from the ceiling, two abandoned bowls and the accumulated dust of another season past.

  Undaunted, Tipaakke made his way across the compound to Won's wigwam. He ignored the stares of his people, refusing to listen to their whispering. Woman and braves gathered in small bunches, discussing their brother's frenzied search. Some speculated that he'd lost his mind b
eneath the torturous hands of the Mohawks while others were sure the white woman had cast some sort of spell over him.

  "Won, Won!" Tipaakke pushed through the door, not waiting for her to respond. He found Won tucking her son into his sleeping platform. "Have you seen her?"

  Won pressed a kiss to her son's forehead and turned to face Tipaakke. Her heart went out to her friend as she stared at his pained face. His shoulders were slumped, his body covered with gashes and burn marks. Reaching out, she stroked his arm. "No. She is not here, Night Fox." She tightened her grip on him. "Sit. Eat. I will find some ointmint for those burns. Your brother was foolish not to tend to them before."

  "I can't." Tipaakke shook his head, his eyes distant. "I must find her. She's out there alone somewhere. I promised I would care for her." The Algonquian words slipped from his mouth, echoing in his ears. He was so tired. So confused. His body ached and his spirit cried out in agony. He wanted his Katelyn!

  "Fox, listen to me." Won recognized his state of semilucidness and tried to reason with him in a way he would understand. "I know we must find her. I will help you."

  "She isn't dead. Katelyn and I are going to have a child." He stared into Won's dark eyes. "She was my gift. I cared for her, I earned her respect. She loves me." He shook his head, beginning to sway on his feet. "She can't be taken from me now."

  Won pushed Tipaakke gently to the floor of her wigwam. "If she is out there, we will find her." She brushed the damp hair off his forehead. "But first you must sleep and have your wounds tended to." He was burning with fever.

  "No time. Must go now," he protested, making no attempt to get up.

  "No. Tomorrow or the next day will be soon enough. You will have to trust the stars. If she is yours and it is meant to be, nothing will keep you apart," she soothed, stroking his hair.

  Tipaakke's eyes began to drift shut. "You are right. I must rest. But only for a little while." He allowed Won to ease him down on a mat. "Then we will go . . . we will find her . . . we will . . . " his voice drifted into a jumble of words and then silence.

  Won stood for a moment looking at the man she had been raised with since childhood. He was a good man: brave, honest, caring. It seemed unfair that he should have such a difficult life. Sighing, she moved to search through her medicine bags. She didn't know if Katelyn was alive or not, but she did know the great Lenni Lenape warrior, Tipaakke Oopus, loved her, so she would do everything in her power to help him get her back.

  Finding the proper herbs, Won squatted to grind them into dust. Right now she had to clean those wounds and apply the healing powders. Once the angry sores became calm again, and Tipaakke got some sleep, he would be able to think logically again. Only then could they make plans to search for his white woman with the fox-colored hair.

  Katelyn listened to the chiming of the tall-case clock on the landing. Midnight. She chuckled to herself as she pulled on the shirt she'd stolen from the line a few nights before. Henry was such a fool! He believed her lies; he believed she wanted to be his wife, to share his bed with him! Tugging on the skirt, she sat down on the cherry bed, reaching for the shoes on the floor. Her moccasins had been burned with the rest of her things, and the high-heeled things Henry had provided her with were useless, so she'd had to steal a reasonable pair of shoes. She hoped that the stable boy wouldn't be too angry when he found his soft, deer-hide boots gone.

  Slipping the boots over her feet, Katelyn ran her palm over her stomach. Beneath the dresses Henry had given her, her stomach wasn't evident, but in the stolen skirt and blouse, it couldn't be missed. She stroked the taut flesh, crooning soft words to her baby. "You will have a father, sweet one. Mama promises that." The baby stirred in response and Katelyn grinned. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you?" Getting to her feet, she crossed the floor to the door, grabbing the flour sack with her provisions off the bed.

  Slipping noiselessly out of her bedchamber door, Katelyn made her way down the grand staircase and out the front hall door. A small brown dog yapped at her as she came around the corner of the house and pressed her body to the wall, disappearing into the shadows. "Shhhh!" she whispered at the dog who followed at her heels. The dog continued to bark, snarling and nipping at her ankles. Quickly, Katelyn fished an oatmeal cookie out of her flour sack and tossed it out onto the lawn. The brown mutt ran after the rolling cookie and Katelyn rounded the back corner of the house.

  Following a red brick path, she made her way quickly to the barn fearing the little dog might return. Pushing through the stable door, she gave a sigh of relief. If she could just get the horse bridled and out of the barn without anyone noticing, she'd be on her way home to Fox!

  Moving slowly through the pitch black stable Katelyn kept her hand on a wall to guide her. She counted the stalls as she went, keeping an eye out for any movement. The small bay she'd chosen two days before was in the sixth stall on the right. Up ahead, at the end of the long barn, she spotted light streaming from above. Standing still, she listened. She had known that two teenage stable hands slept above the barn in the hay loft, but she hadn't counted on one of them being awake!

  What was that sound? Voices . . . laughter. Taking a step closer, she broke into a smile. One of those boys had a girl up there! That was what all the rolling and laughing was about. Hoping they would be too busy to hear her stealing the horse, she moved quickly to the sixth stall.

  Speaking softly to the bay, she lifted the wooden bar that held her in and reached for its rope halter. Feeling to the left of the stall door, she found the mare's bridle, right where it had been yesterday. Luck was with her tonight! Continuing to murmur soft words of encouragement, as Tipaakke had taught her she should with all animals, she led her out of the barn.

  Katelyn felt a pang of sorrow for her lost pony, Wooden Head, as she eased the bridle over the stolen mare's head. But there was no use thinking about that now. The Mohawks had her and it couldn't be helped. Still, she missed her. She had grown quite fond of the shaggy pony over the winter, and through her, had lost all fear of horses.

  Catching the reins of the bridle, Katelyn led the horse to the fence, so she could get on. Standing in the barn, petting the horse yesterday, she had realized that with her growing belly, she'd never be able to get up on her own. Without a stirrup to aid her, she was too clumsy.

  Throwing the flour sack over her shoulder, Katelyn started up the rail fence. Then, through the corner of her eyes, she spotted the lighted lantern moving across the dirt compound.

  "And what do you think you're doing?" Henry's icy voice came out of the darkness.

  Katelyn moved to swing her leg over the horse but he spoke again.

  "Try it. Go ahead, go. But I'll send someone after you." He stepped up beside her, holding the lantern over his head. A young stable boy stood behind him, just outside the circle of light. "Better yet, I'll come after you myself." His eyes narrowed until he looked at her through mere slits. "And then there might be an accident." He shrugged his shoulders. "Wouldn't it be a pity if you slipped off your horse, hit your head on a tree . . . or maybe a rock?" He laughed deep in his throat.

  Katelyn's hand tightened around the reins. "You wouldn't dare," she hissed.

  "Oh, I would. Because if I can't have you," he shook his head slowly, "no one will."

  She swallowed hard, fear tight in her throat. He might really kill me, she thought staring at his evil, twinkling eyes.

  With one quick movement, Henry grabbed her arm and jerked her off the fence. "Now come with me," he said through clenched teeth.

  "What were you doing in the barn?" She noted the straw clinging to his hair and clothes.

  "Giving the stable boy some instructions on the hunt tomorrow. Not that it's any of your business." He snapped her arm hard, leading her towards the rear of the summer kitchen.

  "Funny time to be giving servants instructions," she challenged, struggling to watch the stable boy disappear into the barn with the bay. His clothing was covered with straw, too.

 
; Henry came to an abrupt half, spinning on his heels to grab Katelyn by the shoulders and shake her violently. "Shut up! Do you understand me! Shut up!" He delivered a cold, stinging slap to her face. "Now if I were you, I'd behave myself, Missy, because around here, an accident could happen at any time."

  Katelyn stared at Henry's pale face, her lips trembling. She had underestimated him again. He really might kill her. "I'm sorry." Her sense of self-preservation spoke out. She had too much to live for now. She wouldn't die at this man's hands. Life was just too precious. "I won't do it again."

  "It's too late for sorries, bitch." He grabbed her shirt and propelled her forward, almost shoving her to the ground. "I think I'll let you spend some time alone, contemplating your situation."

  "No." Katelyn shook her head. "Please Henry. I said I was sorry. I swear I won't try to get away again." She backed up. "I was just scared."

  "Where did you think you were going? Back to your Papa?" He reached for the ice house door and swung it open. "Better yet, maybe you were looking for that red-skinned stud of yours!"

  Katelyn spun around to run, closing her hands over her ears. The man was mad! She wasn't going to listen to him.

  "Go. Run. I dare you." Henry stood by the light of the moon, his hands planted on his narrow hips, a smirk plastered on his face.

  Slowly, she turned to face him. She had no choice. If she wanted to live, she had to do what he said. Her sense of Lenni Lenape logic told her so. This man was her only chance of getting back to Tipaakke.

  "That's a good girl, Katelyn. Now get in there." He pointed into the dark abandoned ice house.

  She clutched her hands. "Please don't do this to me, Henry. I promise I'll be good. I won't go anywhere."

  He pointed into the small brick building again. "I'm losing my patience, Katelyn dear." He smiled wickedly.

  She started to back her way into the house holding her hands up in front of her. "Please, Henry. Don't do this." Tears threatened to splash down her cheeks. "Lock me in my room again if you must, but don't lock me up out here."